“That’s … uh … very kind, sir.”

  “Raul. The name is Raul. This here is my very longtime associate, Ilan. See? We’re now on a first-name basis. I noticed a few jugs of water in the outer room. Sure be nice if you’d fetch a couple mugs. If you have something to eat … that’d be nice, too. We were planning to cook dinner before we stumbled on you lot.”

  His eyes lit up. Oh, yeah. We provided the opening he desperately needed. The kid started for the front room, but I motioned for Moon to block the way.

  “Just one condition, Esai. If we’re going to do you a solid, we’ll expect the same in return. Be honest. Emilio didn’t want to make a second run to the fort, did he? It was your idea.”

  The truth didn’t matter to this kid. He needed to say whatever might relieve him of our presence.

  “How did you know, Raul?”

  “Experience. Also, Emilio weren’t your brother. He was your cousin.”

  That tan skin turned a shade pale.

  “How …?”

  “You didn’t grieve him, Esai. You wrote him off. See, cousins don’t carry the same weight. A tree has many branches. A storm might snap a few off, but the tree still stands. Even grows new branches.”

  I nodded for Moon to let him pass.

  “I love metaphors. How about some water and snacks?”

  “Y-yes, sir. I’m sorry I lied, Raul.”

  Moon joined me at the boxes. I flipped the latch on one and tossed around the top few rifles.

  Sound effects.

  “We sacrificed a shitload of time and syneth to make these,” I whispered. “We might need to move the armory to safer territory. Let’s see how this plays out.”

  “Why give him a leash at all?”

  “I’m playing a hunch. There’s one more detail I reckon he’s holding close to the vest.” I raised my voice. “Hey, Esai. How’s that water coming? We’re parched, my friend.”

  I half expected not to hear a response.

  “Here you go.” Esai returned with tall cups. “It’s not cold, but it’s fresh. The cupboard’s almost empty. Dried fruit, some flour wafers. The resupply tumbler doesn’t come until tomorrow.”

  I grabbed my water. “Your garden looked healthy. Got something worth harvesting?”

  “Uh, it’s mostly greens and herbs. I think there’s a few radishes.”

  “That sounds wonderful. Ilan and I love radishes. What say you mash them up, add a few spices, rub the paste over a wafer? We can eat while we work.”

  The little asshole perked up. Too enthusiastic for my taste.

  “Sure, Raul. Radish bars all around. I could use a bite myself.”

  “Sounds disgusting,” Theo quipped. “What are you playing at?”

  “Human predictive analytics. Shut up and enjoy.”

  Moon glared at me. My partner used to love this game. We’d walk into a scenario intending to cause maximum damage in minimum time. Then I’d examine the situation and change up the gameplan. Humans fascinated the hell out of me, the shifty ones in particular. I loved anticipating how they’d adapt when we boxed them in.

  Esai had two plays, but only one gave him a fighting chance.

  “Let’s start,” I said, loud enough for the kid to hear. “I have a few models of blast rifles in mind. Very hot on the night market, I hear.”

  “Sounds good.” Moon feigned a smile. “Maybe we should include a few T8s and Skyrex pistols.”

  “Great idea, Ilan. The buyers will take Esai more seriously if he has a diverse inventory.” I cleared my throat. “Sound good to you, Esai?”

  The kid didn’t respond right away. Thought maybe he’d chosen the wrong play and simply ran.

  “Yes, sir. Yes, Raul. Sounds good.”

  Excellent. He went for the smart option.

  “He’s stalling.” Moon whispered.

  “Yep.”

  “Backup?”

  “Better than that. Buyers.”

  “You mean?”

  I answered with a grin.

  “Any minute now.”

  Moon glanced toward the first chamber. I saw his mind whirring through the possibilities. He lacked the sharpness from the days of maximos deos, but he rearranged the pieces just fine.

  “Royal, you allowed him to contact the buyers?”

  “Yep. I saw a hand-comm on a kitchen shelf.”

  “This will draw attention we don’t need.”

  “Eh. It was too late. When we arrived, did you notice a pricy sedan parked near the cantina? Definitely not from around these parts.”

  “So, you think …?”

  I shrugged. “We need to know who we’re up against. I suspect our little buddy has had enough time. Why don’t you check on him?”

  When Moon peeked into the first chamber and said the kid was gone, I ribbed my D’ru-shaya.

  “Now this is what human predictive analytics is all about, Theo. Never question a master.”

  I didn’t wait for his sour response. Instead, I instructed Moon to join me in the combo kitchen/bedroom. We found a couple places to sit, pistols in our lap.

  A good hunter always preferred to stalk rather than assume the prey will deliver itself unto him. (Unless you’re shooting birds, which struck me as cowardly.) But I knew we’d be dealing with men who believed themselves to have a tactical advantage. Fortunately, our wait was predictably brief.

  Esai entered first. Two other shadows loomed at the doorway. The kid proved it was possible to possess brains and utter stupidity in equal doses. He should’ve known better. If you wanna have a fighting chance against gods, don’t even the playing field.

  Send in a goddamn army.

  8

  E SAI KNEW HE’D BEEN PLAYED the instant he saw us waiting. Despite what he witnessed at the fort, this half-baked amateur thought we’d fall for an ambush. I chalked it up to youth. Made my share of mistakes at his age. I waved him over with a comforting smile.

  “Your friends can come on down.”

  Judging by Esai’s lack of response, he knew his life expectancy was defined in minutes. If either of his buyers reacted hastily, the kid might be measuring his future in seconds.

  These two fellas clearly arrived in that luxury sedan I saw outside the cantina. Their sunset red trench coats, shiny boots, and slicked black hair had a city polish. Each was left-handed, in which they held a long-barreled snuff pistol with custom carvings and a leather grip.

  Couldn’t accuse these guys of lacking style.

  They aimed, but they weren’t dumbass enough to fire.

  “Welcome, gentlemen. We were expecting you. I’m Raul. This here is Ilan. I reckon you report to Cardinale?”

  They were clean-shaven, thirtysomething, with a darker shade of tan than most Aztecans.

  “You’re in no position to ask questions.”

  So said the guy with a birth mark on his dimple.

  “I beg to differ. Can’t say for sure what sort of intel our little friend has offered up, but I’m certain you’ve been misled. When he contacted you about the products, he neglected to mention how he and his cousin acquired said products.”

  Their eyes navigated between Esai, us, and our Skyrex pistols.

  Birthmark man turned to Esai.

  “Where is Emilio?”

  Esai stared down. “He’s … we had an accident. We …”

  “Were caught stealing our property. My partner and I executed his compatriots. Now, I’m sure if the commensurate action were carried out against your holdings, those little assholes would not have walked away with their lives. Am I right?”

  Birthmark man was no dummy. I also figured he spoke for the duo, similar to my role.

  “Who do you work for?” He asked.

  “We have significant interests far to the south. We were charged with doing business respectfully outside your territory. Esai and his menagerie of morons broke into one of our temporary holding facilities. That’s all I’m at liberty to disclose. I’m afraid you were lured here under false pretenses. If you had procured our goods from this idiot, you would’ve set into motion a territorial war. No one wants that. Certainly not your boss Cardinale.”

  “H-he’s lying,” Esai stammered. “He doesn’t know anything about Cardinale or the Horax.”

  I chuckled. “So says the little fish in the smallest pond.”

  “He offered weapons,” my opponent said. “You sell?”

  “I prefer not to discuss business amid a fraught circumstance. A more civilized location … something public … might allow us to talk without the threat of imminent fatalities.”

  “Or,” he replied with a wry grin, “we could kill you two where you sit and continue our discussions with Esai.”

  “Hah! This asshole? He and his friends intended to sell you a portion of the stolen property and make a hefty profit on the rest through the night market. Ask him.”

  The man did, turning his snuff pistol on Esai. The kid developed an ill-timed case of dry mouth.

  “Not t-true. He’s l-lying.”

  Yep.

  “These masters of mischief said they wanted to open a door into the Horax but also make bank on the side. Esai claimed to owe a debt. He intended to fulfill his debt then enrich himself by competing directly. Your buddy lured you two unsuspecting souls down here knowing full well my partner and I had the faster trigger and better aim.”

  The kid went apoplectic. What in hell did he expect would happen to a double dealer?

  “No. No. No! You can’t believe Raul. I would never go up against Cardinale. Never.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

  “The kid’s got no value. This conversation is for men.”

  My opposite apparently agreed. He shot Esai in the neck.

  The kid staggered about like a puppet trying to find his balance until he fell into the hydrogarden. It shattered too easily – no doubt of poor construction. The shards covered the new corpse. A pair of radishes rolled over to my feet.

  “There’s lunch.” Still, that was one problem nicely solved. “Good choice, my new friend. How about we conclude our business with a nice little chat? Introductions are in order.”

  “The name is Vincente. He’s Mando. I’ll do most of the talking. Still insist on a public venue?”

  “Greater chance of a peaceful resolution. A fair meeting of minds.”

  “We’ll set the terms and location. You’re on our territory.”

  That must have been so comforting to the locals.

  I couldn’t resist a little snark.

  “I’m sure you know all the hotspots in Desperido.”

  My wit rolled off Vincente.

  “If the kid was right about ten percent of what he told us, you’d best be prepared to pay tribute. Otherwise, you don’t leave this town alive, and we claim your entire inventory.”

  “I’m sure we can reach accommodation. Ilan and I have no interest in trouble. Ain’t that right, partner?”

  Moon responded to my nudge. “Trouble hurts profits.”

  We could’ve killed them both then and there. Incinerated all three bodies. Recovered our shit and walked away. But running missions for the President illustrated the added value of quality intel. I knew only surface details about Cardinale or the Horax. Time to fill in gaps. And on a practical note, I reckoned Cardinale wouldn’t take kindly if these fellas disappeared.

  “I’d like to make a good-faith gesture, Vincente. My partner will stay behind to clean up this mess. He’s very efficient. You and your fine associate will escort me to a public location of your choice. After we sort our business, we’ll provide you with a sample of our products. A voluntary tribute for the incursion.”

  Cardinale’s men stared at each other in silence. I’m sure Moon didn’t appreciate my sudden shift in strategy.

  “We accept the gesture,” Vincente said. “If we detect any deception, you’re a dead man, Raul.”

  “Naturally. Give me a quiet moment to consult my partner.”

  They retreated up the steps. The shadows told me they took position at the entrance.

  “Why are you dragging this out?” Moon said.

  “Think it through, my friend. That dead prick and his merry band of muffin heads compromised our position. A heavy hand will only provide us with a few days’ protection. I’d like to explore a more nuanced approach.”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  “I do with all my so-called heart, Moon. No, today calls for a wordsmith. It’s my particular forte. While I’m gone, incinerate the body, load three and a half boxes on a rifter. Might be a tight fit. Return them to the armory.”

  “And the rest?”

  “Leave rifles only. No explosives. Toss them in a container and drop it at the base of those steps. They’ll collect the tribute, see what fine work you did to sanitize the scene, and go about their business.”

  Moon retrieved a cigar from a pocket inside his duster and bit off the end.

  “It’s a mistake, Royal. You don’t know these men.”

  “I’m interested in the people they work for. Trust me, partner. I’m looking out for our interests.”

  Moon sprouted a flame from the end of his thumb and lit the cigar.

  “We’re a team. You’re making me run errands.”

  I heard a pout coming on.

  “I’m delegating responsibility, my friend. If you have another idea that doesn’t involve frying those two, speak plain.”

  Moon stormed into the back room without another word. On the surface, he was a killing machine who loved fire and laying waste to humans of all shapes and sizes. A god to be admired. Underneath, he was just a big baby. He left me no choice but to think for us both.

  I holstered my pistol and sauntered up the steps.

  “So, gentlemen, where shall we confab?”

  Vincente pulled from a digipipe. Little puffs of perfumed white smoke accompanied his response.

  “You take lead. Any wrong move and … I don’t have to spell it out.”

  “Understood. Peace is a tenuous concept.”

  He pointed toward the wide central avenue. I had a notion where we might be headed. Made sense.

  Nothing else about this little town did. Judging from the silence and the empty, dusty streets, one might have thought it started the day with a population of four, now reduced to a clean slate.

  “This is my first visit to Desperido. Must say, I am not impressed. Do you gentlemen drop by often? Or is this a one-off?”

  I didn’t have eyes in the back of my head (well, not anymore), so I imagined those fellas glaring at each other, their pistols trained on me, deciding how much to reveal. In time, Vincente opened up.

  “No one visits this town unless they have orders.”

  “Or to recover stolen property. What about the residents?”

  “Misfits. Artists. Writers. Addicts. Technits. No one of value.”

  “Philosophers?”

  Vincente stifled a laugh. “Yeah. Them too.”

  “Technits? Not familiar with that particular occupation.”

  “Those malgados went down a rabbit hole after The Wave hit. Organic tech fetish. What do you call them down south?”

  Oh. That. Of course, I’d heard about them. Every living creature – even the ones well down the food chain – responded to The Wave in wild and sometimes exotic manners. It chased through the known universe the same standard day Moon and I sacrificed godhood.

  Not a coincidence.

  “We don’t use a particular nickname. But words like lunatic, miscreant, and deviant often arise.”

  “Any of those will do.”

  Their luxury sedan came into view. It was a silver four-gate with retractable hover pads. Very similar to vehicles I saw parked outside Club Moulet before it became a crematorium. Only the swankiest of humans afforded such a vehicle. Vincente and Mando were well-positioned within the hierarchy to provide meaningful intel.

  “A curiosity,” I said, turning around to face my new friends. Sure enough, they aimed their pistols. “Who’s the law around these parts? Local? Regional?”

  Mando snickered. “Law? In Desperido?”

  Vincente took over. “Other than the resupply tumblers, these people are on their own. By choice. They haven’t had a constable in my lifetime.”

  “He’d drink himself to death,” Mando quipped. “Or the boredom would kill him.”

  “I see. You two have impunity. I’m sure when your four-gate hummed into town, they cleared the streets in a nanosecond.”

  Vincente told me to turn around and resume the walk.

  “Don’t get the wrong idea, Raul. There’s no law in Desperido, but there is order. You’re about to meet her. Next right.”

  As I suspected, we approached the cantina. Every small town on the forty worlds had a watering hole of similar vein. A bar. A restaurant. A meeting house. A social club. A city hall. Or all the above. Humans living at the ass-end of civilization needed a place to commiserate.

  The cantina did little to distinguish itself beyond a fairly recent coat of weathering plaster, a nightlight above the door, and a brown “L” carved in cursive on the façade. The windows were little more than peepholes. I predicted the inside before we entered: Dim lighting (probably an off-blue), tall booths, a persistent cloud of smoke, and a disinterested barkeep. The open door would cast a shock of sunlight no doubt disturbing to the patrons.

  My new friends holstered their weapons outside the door. Vincente grabbed the handle and raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ll do the talking. Understood?”

  I heard hesitation in his voice. It wasn’t fear; this man and his companion belonged to the stone-cold demographic I long admired. Yet he did not expect to command the room. Odd.

  Normally, surprises bothered me, but I rolled with them so long as I might turn the plot twist to my advantage. What I saw and felt when we entered the cantina proved an outlier to that philosophy.

  We walked into an oasis of bright lights, off-white stone walls with artwork and memorabilia, each table set painted a different color, fancy curtains hiding the tiny windows, ceiling fans distributing the smoke, and a delicious supply of liquor displayed behind a long, beautiful bar with padded stools. My dialed-in olfactory sensors registered spicy hot stews, the sweet leaf of digipipes, and peppered beer.